


Sparrowhawks

by Cryptix23



Series: Rare Birds [2]
Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Alternate Timeline Versions, BAMF Diego Hargreeves, BAMF Klaus Hargreeves, BAMF Vanya Hargreeves, Five is basically the leader now sorry Luther, Five is soft for Vanya, Gen, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Mentions of past drug use, No Incest, Number Five | The Boy Whump, Number Five | The Boy has PTSD, Reginald Hargreeves' A+ Parenting, Sparrow Academy OCs, all aboard the pain train, post-battle medical care, probably medically inaccurate, season 3 concept, slightly redeems Reginald but he's still a colossal asshole
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-27
Updated: 2020-09-03
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:08:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26146147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cryptix23/pseuds/Cryptix23
Summary: Adjusting to a world where they never existed isn't easy. Adjusting to one where they were found wanting and replaced, doubly so. But with the world at stake (again), the Umbrella siblings are resolved to make the most of their new situation.Then, on a mission that should have been insultingly easy, some of them start to show familiar symptoms. Denial, itching, extreme thirst--Maybe there's another reason why the Umbrella Academy didn't exist in this timeline.(Can be read on its own)
Relationships: Diego Hargreeves & Klaus Hargreeves & Vanya Hargreeves, Number Five | The Boy & Luther Hargreeves, Number Five | The Boy & Vanya Hargreeves, Sissy Cooper/Vanya Hargreeves, The Hargreeves Family
Series: Rare Birds [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1898632
Comments: 38
Kudos: 273





	1. Paradox Psychosis

**Author's Note:**

> Another Season 3 concept that I had to write down to get it to stop rattling around in my brain.
> 
> Fleshed out the Sparrows a little more due to necessity so I guess they're OCs now, maybe I'll edit when they get canon names/personalities so I can pretend it's still a little compliant.
> 
> If you haven't read Rough Draft:  
> \- Harlan and Sissy helped raise the Sparrows and live at the Academy  
> \- Reginald experienced a modicum of introspection and is a slightly better dad, but still an asshole  
> \- Sparrow Ben is an asshole  
> There, you're caught up.

They made it all of one week.

One week, in that abomination that they somehow used to think of as a house. One week in unfamiliar rooms in an unfamiliar wing that they couldn't even remember whether it existed before, much less if they'd ever been there. One week of making wrong turns because the Academy was slightly, disorientingly different. One week of accidentally winding up in the childrens' wing, in bedrooms that were no longer theirs, where one or more Sparrows was always staying the night even though almost all of them had their own place.

One week of Diego abruptly leaving the room when a woman who wasn't Grace said to call her 'Mom'. One week of Luther seeing Pogo out of the corner of his eye and never finding him actually there. One week of Allison sneaking off to smoke in the attic only to find it converted to a rookery. One week of Vanya staring numbly at the antlers over the mantelpiece, at the untouched violin in the display hall. One week of trying to keep Klaus distracted so that he wouldn't disappear back into his old habits. One week of Five writing equations over every surface as he tried desperately to find a way out, a way back.

One week of all their private places and secret memories either being gone or usurped by a Sparrow.

One week of the Sparrows looking at them with mixed expressions of pity, impatience, and hostility.

Moving out was a unanimous decision, this time.

* * *

"Could you people be _any_ slower?" Five barked, tapping his patent leather shoes with increasing impatience.

"Is that a challenge?" Klaus called from somewhere upstairs.

The floorboards creaked under Luther's heavy tread as he pulled a jacket over his wide shoulders. "He just called, what's the rush?" Not so long ago -- in Five's continuity -- that would've surprised him from Luther. Now it just exasperated him.

"This is the first mission he's called us for and you ask 'What's the rush?' Hello? Apocalypse?"

"Yeah, I remember, the novelty's kind of worn off. We don't even have a time limit on this one."

Diego appeared in the hall with a knife in his teeth, his hands occupied with tying back his hair -- making sure a few locks still fell loose, for reasons that had absolutely nothing to do with aesthetic advice about 'framing his face' from a certain fashion-conscious sister. He mumbled something around the blade.

"Don't talk with your mouth full," Allison said as she breezed past him. "Nice outfit, Five."

Five looked down at himself, black dress shirt unbuttoned and half-tucked into trousers in a style that Allison had insisted would help him look a little less... well... _thirteen_ , without looking like a child playing dress-up from grandpa's closet. "Oh. Thanks." He adjusted his lapels self-consciously.

Diego removed the knife, pointed it at Allison. "You're not my mom." He fitted it into the shoulder sheath under his jacket -- a little theatrical, but at least he'd given up the full-body harness. "I _said_ , let the bastard wait."

"Yeah, and who do you think he's going to take it out on while we're running late?" Five said.

"He knows better than to yell at Vanya," Luther said. Five looked at him. "I _hope_ he knows better than to yell at Vanya. Otherwise the apocalypse is a lot closer than he thinks."

"Klaus!" Allison called up the stairs. "Waiting on you!"

He sauntered onto the upper landing, draping his long arms over the rail. "You know, I was thinking, maybe you don't really need me there on this one--"

"Klaus," Allison repeated. He turned his big, mournful eyes on her. "Of course we need you."

The last tenuous threads of Five's patience snapped. "If you want to stay here all alone wallowing in your self-pity, fine, but you have until I start the car to make up your mind." With that, he snatched the keys from the umbrella-shaped hanger on the wall and stepped sideways out of reality.

Klaus winced. "Ouch."

"God dammit, Five," Allison muttered. "Klaus, he didn't mean--"

"Oh, I know, I know, he's just being Five." Klaus waved off her concerns. "Shall we away?"

* * *

Vanya was waiting on the steps in the front hall. She rose to meet them. "He's pissed."

"That's his problem," Diego said.

"You okay?" Allison rushed ahead to touch Vanya's arm.

"He didn't say anything to me, so, yeah."

Allison squeezed her arm and smiled in relief. Of course, if Vanya were upset, there would be at least a few cracked windows to show for it, but it didn't hurt to check.

"How's the hausfrau?" Klaus threw his arm around Vanya's shoulder as they headed up the stairs. Five jumped past them.

Vanya smiled. "She's doing well. She went to sleep awhile ago. She and Audra were showing me--" Vanya faltered.

"Showing you what? Something naughty?" Klaus goaded. "Tips for a lesbian robot octogenarian threesome?" He neatly dodged both Vanya's elbow and Allison's slap and darted up the stairs.

"I'd tell you not to be gross but I think you'd stop existing!" Vanya called.

Klaus spun and made a rude gesture that turned Vanya beet red. He squealed and ran as she took off after him.

"Five, save me!"

Five rolled his eyes. "You made your bed, you lie in it."

"Hey!" Klaus spun again on his heel to point accusingly at Five. "I have never made a bed in my life, and I will not stand for this slander." As Vanya got close, he took off again.

The playfulness soured, curdled into apprehension as they crossed the second floor towards Sir Reginald's study. The door stood open. Sir Reginald's authoritative voice floated out. Klaus slowed, his grin becoming a little more affected. Luther's back straightened despite himself. Allison drew in a deep breath. Diego clenched and unclenched his fists, practically vibrating with nervous energy.

Vanya had never been called on a mission. She didn't have the conditioning for tension, anticipation, dread. Her stress was in trying to keep her feet flat on the ground, instead of up on her toes, ready to scurry off before anyone could catch her peeking.

Unfamiliar as it was in places, the old house made it hard not to fall back into old habits.

Five leaned in the doorframe. If he felt ill at ease, he didn't show it. He'd certainly spent enough time there, lately, conferring with Sir Reginald about the newest apocalypse -- or, more accurately, badgering Sir Reginald for more information. Sir Reginald was a tough nut to crack without thumbscrews -- and Five wasn't doing that sort of thing anymore.

Inside the study, arranged in a neat line in front of the desk, were the Sparrows. Six of them stood at military attention, smartly uniformed in red and black, matching but not identical. The seventh was neither uniformed nor standing, on account of being a floating green cube the approximate color and texture of sea glass.

"--want you all to be on guard," Sir Reginald was saying. "If I could tell you more, I would, but my sources--"

Five cleared his throat.

The Sparrows turned. Five twiddled his fingers in greeting. Only one smiled -- small, bubbly Carla, Number Two, ever the mediator -- although the cube pulsed with a soft light in a way that might have been positive. Behind Five, his siblings tried to look tough and put-together and not half as anxious as they felt. The Sparrows' uniforms were like the house: too different, but painfully familiar all the same, and their crispness made the Umbrellas all-too-aware of their defiantly civilian garb.

"Ah, good, you've arrived." Sir Reginald managed to make the innocuous statement into a reproach. He was standing in front of his desk, not seated behind it. That was different. He'd always remained seated when briefing them. "You may as well hear this."

The Umbrellas took this as invitation to file into the room, the Sparrows' line swinging back to accommodate them. The Umbrellas made no effort at order or precision, just arranging themselves wherever there was space, in a way that (some of them hoped) looked deliberately rebellious rather than just disorganized. The study was not small, but it was not designed to fit twelve adults, a tall tween, and a cube comfortably.

Staying back by the door, Klaus leaned towards the cube, Number Three, who had the entirely too ordinary name of Christopher. "We still on for Friday?" Christopher's internal glow pulsed slightly as he whispered back an affirmation. Klaus grinned. " _Vunderbar_." He held up a hand for a fist-bump. Number One, Ben, shot them a silencing look.

"I will summarize," Sir Reginald was saying. "I have intercepted activity from an enemy of ours. They plan to raid a nearby military complex tonight in search of a device I had a hand in designing. The Sparrows will be handling this attack." Plucking a large glossy photo from the folder on his desk, Sir Reginald passed it to Five. "I have reason to believe they have sent their best agents -- a small group of highly dangerous individuals known only as the Raptors." Five glanced at it briefly before handing it back to Luther. He reached for the rest of the folder, but Sir Reginald slid it away.

It became immediately obvious why Five had not studied the photo for long. The image was a frame from a closed-circuit camera, greyscale, cropped and zoomed and grainy to the point of uselessness. Three figures in light suits, one shorter than the others, their faces mere white blurs. The short one appeared to be blond. The other two were dark-haired... or -hatted.

"White suits. Ostentatious. Probably not Commission," Diego murmured, glancing at Five for confirmation. Five was ignoring him, apparently focused on Sir Reginald, but his eyes kept darting to the folder, waiting for a chance to snatch it.

"The exact identities and capabilities of these agents," Sir Reginald was continuing, addressing the Sparrows directly, "is a closely guarded secret that my sources have yet to crack. Take note of everything, and remember, do not let your guard down for a moment. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir," the seven chorused.

"As for the Umbrellas. There is a research facility that may also be a target tonight. I will be counting on you to keep the facility under surveillance and to intervene if necessary."

Five's mouth twisted into a scowl. "You called us for a stakeout?"

Ben barely restrained a chuckle. Carla nudged him.

"If that's what you wish to call it--"

"Because that's what it is," Diego muttered.

"If you think you can't handle it," Ben said, "I'm sure I could spare a few bodies."

Diego moved toward him, fingers already on a knife. "I'll give you _bodies_ \--" Allison stopped him with an outstretched arm.

"Ben's got a point," Luther rumbled. Diego shot him a betrayed glare. Luther just pointed to the Sparrows. "Faith can surveil a location single-handed. Chris can transport everyone from one place to the other in five, ten minutes tops. You don't need two teams."

Sir Reginald had yet to get used to this kind of disrespect. The Sparrows followed his orders without question. They trusted his judgment. The Umbrellas did not, and thus everything with them became a negotiation. He supposed that was probably his fault. Everything, apparently, was.

"Sparrows, move out." As they filed out, he turned his full attention to the Umbrellas, singling out Five as he often did when addressing them. "I assure you, this mission is of far greater importance than a mere 'stakeout'. The enemy has coordinated multiple strikes tonight in an effort to strain my resources. I know the capabilities of the Sparrow Academy and they will need their full power should they encounter the Raptors." He slid the folder back to Five. Five immediately looked suspicious. "I cannot spare them to protect this facility as well."

Five flipped open the folder. He let out a low whistle. "Oh. Oh that's _messy_." When his siblings leaned in to look over his shoulder, he blinked across the desk with the folder, dropping insolently into Sir Reginald's chair. "You _don't_ want to see this." Returning to Sir Reginald, he asked, "Explosives?"

"No sign of accelerants or shrapnel. No prints, no hairs, no security footage. No survivors. Everything you see there occurred in less than five minutes."

Five's eyes lit up in a disturbing way. "Five minutes? Not bad, for-- oh. _Oh_. They're like us, aren't they?"

"In all likelihood. And they have been careful enough that I have not been able to get a read on their exact abilities. Hence, my Sparrows need their full wits about them. But I still need eyes on this facility. Even if you are... untested."

"Why is this place so important?" Allison asked. Sir Reginald's gaze flickered up to her.

"There are many things there that should not fall into the wrong hands, and many people who do not deserve to die. Do you need more than that?"

"Is this a field test?" Five asked absently, a little too much of his attention back on the folder in his lap.

"Not exactly, but you may certainly treat it as one."

"Fine," said Luther.

The siblings exchanged looks, held a quick and silent conversation. Allison shrugged, but moved closer to Luther. Vanya, hands in her pockets and shoulders hunched up, nodded. Klaus waved a tattooed hand vaguely. Diego sucked his teeth while his anti-authority instincts warred with his hero complex. Finally he looked down at his boots and gave the smallest of nods.

Five fixed his sarcastic smile on Sir Reginald. "Alright. We're in. What's the plan?"

* * *

Diego still clung to some romanticized ideas about detective work, but one thing he had realized very quickly a very long time ago: stakeouts sucked. There was a reason why procedurals always glossed over or cut to black or had something improbably convenient happen to cut one short.

Stakeouts. _Sucked_.

"Any change?"

And they were even worse when conducted with five people he could not stand half the time. (Even if he loved them, dearly, all the time.)

Diego glared over at Luther just to have a change of scenery. "Yeah, everything blew up while you weren't looking. You see the smoking crater?"

They were set up on a hill that overlooked the research facility, close enough to reach it quickly on foot if anything happened, but far enough that they wouldn't tip off any observers -- if nobody noticed fucking gigantic Luther silhouetted against the treeline, anyway. Even lying prone, he was a damn eyesore.

The place didn't look like much at first glance, just an office building tucked off of a winding lane full of office buildings. Certainly it didn't look like an enticing target for some shadowy organization. Security was high enough to have a gated checkpoint and enough lights to keep the night at bay, which wasn't too notable; and a high-voltage wire strung across the top of the high walls, which was notable enough for Sir Reginald to warn them about it. That high-voltage wire was about the only thing convincing Diego this wasn't totally pointless, and he was starting to think Da-- Reginald had made it up for exactly that reason.

Luther dropped his chin onto his folded arms. "This is pointless."

"Utterly, utterly pointless," agreed Five, lying on Luther's other side with his arm draped over his eyes. Diego had honestly forgotten he was there.

"What a shame we roped you two innocent bystanders into this," Diego muttered, looking through the binoculars again. He idly wondered if the high-voltage wire -- assuming it actually existed -- would hurt much more than a taser. His chest itched at the thought. Or it itched because he'd army-crawled through poison ivy or something. That would be just his luck.

At least the real drama queens were hanging back in the treeline. He didn't want to know what kind of complaining diva Klaus was doing, or her majesty Allison, or not-so-timid-anymore little Vanya. He definitely wouldn't rather be back there bantering with them than watching a stupid building.

"Hey, hey, guys."

_Speak of the devil and Klaus shall appear._

"Klaus, you're supposed to stay by the car," Luther said.

Klaus crawled up between Luther and Diego, idly scratching his neck. "Okay, but, hear me out. Allison told me, to tell you guys, the thing I was just telling her about--"

"Get to the point, Klaus," Diego warned.

"--The ghosts here are really weird. Like, horror movie weird."

Whatever they'd been expecting Klaus to say, that was not it. Five uncovered his face to join Luther and Diego in staring at their brother.

"Could you be more specific?" Diego asked. "Are we talking like The Shining or The Ring or what?"

"Uh, Jacob's Ladder?"

"Never saw it."

"You uncultured heathen. Okay--" Klaus waved his hands as he tried to think of how to explain himself.

"Car," Luther said.

Diego turned the binoculars toward the road. Sure enough, a car had turned onto the winding driveway, which wouldn't be interesting except that it was the only thing besides Klaus that had happened in an hour, and it made a lot more sense than Klaus. "Light sedan, silver or beige, can't quite make out the plates. Tinted windows."

At that, Five rolled over and started paying attention again. "Completely opaque?"

"Yep."

"Suspicious."

"Maybe."

They watched as the car drew up to the guardpost. It idled for a minute as the driver and guard conferred. Then, to their disappointment, the gate opened without incident and the car drove through.

"Guess they're supposed to be here," Luther said.

Diego tossed the binoculars at the grass near Luther's head and rolled up to his feet. "Fuck this, I need to pee."

Luther looked back at Klaus. "Sorry, you were saying?"

Klaus shook his head. "Nah, it's- it's nothing. I was just bored. I forgot the interesting siblings are all back at the car. Ta!"

Five plucked up the binoculars and took a look, ignoring Klaus's exit. Something about this didn't feel right -- he couldn't put his finger on why, and that bothered him more than anything. The car -- definitely white in the bright facility lights -- drew to a stop in front of the main door instead of parking. Three doors opened, discharging three figures in light clothes. One of them slung a thin, dark umbrella over their shoulders. A man in a security uniform emerged from the building, gesturing at the newcomers in a not-so-welcoming way.

"I don't like this," Five said. "I'm getting a closer look."

"Don't like wh--?"

Five was already gone. Luther sighed and picked up the binoculars.

Five reappeared on the roof of the building, just over the main doors, where he could just eavesdrop if he strained his ears. He peeked carefully over the edge.

The angle wasn't right to get a look at them. He could just see the back half of one of the newcomers. Short dark hair, solid shoulders, white jacket. Doctors? Infiltrators playing the part of doctors? Rich donors checking on the illicit experiments they were bankrolling? He wished he'd grilled Reginald a little harder on what this place actually _did_.

"Right this way, sir," someone was saying, and the tone of their voice didn't sit right with Five, either.

Something was wrong here.

"We need to infiltrate" was the first thing out of his mouth as he reappeared next to Luther.

Luther blinked a few times. "Okay, I'll bite. Why?"

"There's something wrong," Five said. He didn't like how weak it sounded to his own ears, so he switched tracks. "Did you see them present any credentials?"

"Not that I noticed."

"This place is supposed to be secure and on high alert right now. What are people in white suits doing showing up in the middle of the night without credentials?"

Luther chewed his lip thoughtfully. "That's not enough to break into a secure facility over."

"It's not breaking in if Reggie fixed us an entrance," Diego added as he rejoined them. "Are we breaking in?"

"Yes," said Five.

"No," said Luther.

"I heard a 'yes', I'll grab the others."

"No, dammit, Diego--" but Diego was already crouch-walking away as quickly as he could crouch-walk. Luther glared at Five. "If this goes sideways, you're answering for it."

"Yes, fine, I accept full responsibility, can we _go_?"

* * *

Sir Reginald had indeed, as Diego put it, 'fixed an entrance' for them. A stretch of the high-voltage wire was not charged. A fire exit without an outer handle bore a subtle mark to indicate the alarm wouldn't sound. Five phased inside and opened it for the others.

The hall was dim, the walls that particular shade of office-building beige, the carpet brown and thin. Utterly unremarkable. No sounds of life came their way, only their own footsteps barely muffled. If they didn't know any better they'd think the entire place was deserted. Allison lead the way, ready to nonviolently handle any bystanders that might cross their path.

At the back of the group, Klaus let out a whine. "I _knew_ I should've gone before we left."

"Shhh." Luther glanced back, his gaze settling on Vanya, who had her arms folded around her stomach. His stern expression immediately gave way to concern. "Hey, are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Vanya said. Her stomach gurgled loud enough for him to hear.

"Are you... sure?"

"She said she's fine, Luther," Diego snapped. "Would you back off?"

"Am I not allowed to show concern for my sister, now?"

"I'm _fine_ ," Vanya repeated with a surprising amount of venom. "I'm not leaving."

"Would you idiots be _quiet_?" Five hissed from up ahead. He glared back at them. Then his brow furrowed, taking in Luther's bewildered expression, Diego's aggressive stance, Vanya's glower, Klaus in the back spacing out while covering a burp.

"Do you hear that?" Allison whispered.

They all fell silent. Music had begun to play, somewhere far ahead, echoing through the halls. A jaunty, familiar tune.

"Is that the Time Warp?" Klaus said, bemused.

That's when the screaming and gunfire started.

Luther jumped into action, powerful legs propelling him down the hall at breakneck speed. Diego followed at a sprint. His skin already glowed with sweat.

Five stopped in his tracks, feeling the blood drain out of his face as he realized his mistake.

 _Shit_.

He blinked into Luther's path, giving the half-human freight train plenty of space to brake. "Luther!"

Luther drew up short. "What?" He snapped. His eyes darted from Five to the gunshots and music still playing up ahead.

The others were well behind. Good. He had time to convince Luther. "I was wrong. We need to leave, _now_."

"Are you rea--"

"Do you remember the stages of paradox psychosis?"

"What?" Luther repeated, confused and impatient this time. "Uh, y-yes? Itching, gas, sweating... urination... paranoia..." He trailed off, coming to the same horrible conclusion that had just struck Five. "You don't think--"

"We have to go," Five said, leaving no room for argument. He stepped around Luther to address the others as they caught up, confused and irritated at Luther and Five's hesitation. "We have to go. Now."

"Five, what--" Allison began.

Luther cut her off. "No, he's right. We need to leave." His eyes were fixed on Vanya, on the sheen of sweat on her brow.

This did not go unnoticed. She stared back with unnerving intensity. "I told you, I'm not leaving. We just got here." Her eyes narrowed. "What do you two know that we don't?"

"Trying to steal all the glory in this one, huh, brother?" Diego snarled, his teeth bared like he would like nothing more than to rip Luther's throat out with them. "Think you'll get back into Daddy's good graces if you just show him you're better than the rest of us?"

Klaus's eyes darted wildly, focusing on things the rest of them couldn't see. He started to mutter under his breath. Five could just catch disquieting phrases like "all a trap" and "catch us" and "experiments", and for once regretted not listening to his earlier nonsense about weird ghosts.

Allison looked between her siblings, baffled by the sudden hostility. "Okay, everyone needs to calm down, I don't know what's--"

" _Liar_ ," Diego snapped. "You know _exactly_ what's going on, you and Golden Boy here are always--"

"Diego, what the hell has gotten into--"

Vanya was starting to take on a deathly pallor. Klaus was still next to her, though he looked ready to bolt. Diego had gotten in Luther's face.

There wasn't time for a better plan. Five looked at Luther. "Handle Diego," he undertoned. He turned and launched off the ground, spreading his arms as he phased. He reappeared in front of Vanya and Klaus, caught an arm around each of them, and swallowed all three of them into the rift.

They landed on the grass outside the complex, as soft a landing as he could manage with the constraints of distance and time. Vanya and Klaus tumbled back from the momentum, coughing and groaning with sudden intense motion sickness. Five left them to recover while he sprinted to a payphone.

Sir Reginald answered the phone himself, surprisingly. "Report!"

Five allowed himself a moment to wonder what would happen if someone other than his children were calling. Then he snapped into the professional tone of his Commission days. "This is Five. We've identified your Raptors."

A beat. Five smirked, still rather proud that he could catch the old man off-guard.

"Explain."

"Are you familiar with paradox psychosis?"

"I am. Who?"

"Diego. Klaus. And Vanya."

Reginald drew in a sharp breath. "Evacuate your team immediately. I'm sending the Sparrows."

* * *

"Handle Diego."

Simple premise. Not-so-simple execution.

Before the air had finished filling the space formerly occupied by Klaus and Vanya, Diego flipped backwards, kicking off Luther, and launched a knife mid-flip. The blade nicked his neck as it arced past -- Luther credited the 'uncontrolled perspiration' stage with saving his life, and not any hesitation on Diego's part.

Luther and Diego had fought plenty of times before, but there was always a certain level of restraint to it. For all their bickering, they didn't _want_ to kill each other, or even seriously hurt each other. Sure, that 'certain level' was significantly lower than they'd show to anyone else, because they could both take a beating and give as good as they got, but it was there.

Not so, right now. Diego was definitely into the homicidal rage stage... or at least fully into the paranoia stage, which was basically the same thing. He charged in with a roar and a knife shining in his hands and murder in his wild eyes, and it was all Luther could do to weather his barrage of punches and kicks and avoid getting sliced to ribbons in the process.

"Diego, stop!" Allison cried.

"You're in on it! You always were, you backstabbing _bitch_!" Diego whirled, his arm cocked back for a throw. Luther's massive hand wrapped around his in a vice grip, closing it tight around the knife's handle. He wrapped his other arm around Diego's chest and lifted him clear off the ground. Diego thrashed, screamed invectives, slammed his head back into Luther's jaw. Luther stumbled but maintained his grip.

"Knock him out!"

Allison didn't hesitate, and thank god for that because even with his strength he couldn't hold an unwilling Diego indefinitely, not without hurting him.

" _I heard a rumor that you fell asleep._ "

Diego's eyes went white, then flickered shut, and he went limp in Luther's arms. He snored softly.

"Luther, why did Diego just attack us?"

Luther threw Diego over his shoulder. "I'll explain once we're outside. Come on."

"What about--" Allison pointed. There were still gunshots, but they were farther now, fewer.

Luther looked pained, but he shook his head. "There's no time. I promise, this will make sense, but we have to go."

* * *

They met back up at the car. Vanya and Klaus leaned against the side, mostly recovered from the twin strains of paradox psychosis and travelling with Five. The boy in question phased in as Luther and Allison hurried up.

"Sparrows incoming," he said.

Vanya scrambled unsteadily to her feet. "What the hell is going on? We should be helping those people! We need to get back in there! Aren't we--"

Five stopped in front of her, taking her arms. The gentle gesture stopped her short. "Paradox psychosis," he explained, urgently but without his usual bite. "When you get too close to another version of yourself in the same timeline, it messes with your head. There are seven stages: One, denial. Two, itching. Three, extreme thirst and urination. Four, excessive gas. Five, acute paranoia. Six, uncontrolled perspiration... and seven: homicidal rage."

Klaus stopped nodding along. "Oh. That's a problem."

"Oh, my god," Allison whispered.

"If we went any further in there, there would be two of _you_ going nuclear right now."

Vanya sat back down, hard. "Shit. Is that how it happens this time?"

"Well, if it is, then congratulations, we just defused it." Five held out the car keys. "Here. I need you to take Klaus and Diego and go back to the Academy."

"What about you guys?"

Five glanced at Luther and Allison with a question on his face. The two of them nodded. "The Sparrows don't know who they're dealing with. We do. We're staying to help."

Diego groaned and murmured unintelligibly as Luther deposited him in the back seat.

"Explain it to him when he wakes up, will you?" Five asked. "Might take a few tries but he'll get it eventually."

Vanya opened her mouth to say something, but nothing came out. She tried again. "Be careful."

"Yeah."

Five, Luther, and Allison stood in the road, watching the car retreat with half their team -- half their family. Vanya's eyes watched them in the rearview.

"Five," Luther said. "What was in that folder?"

Five didn't look at him. "You _really_ don't want to know."

* * *

The engine and her heartbeat roared in her ears, every bump from the tires a percussion blast. Her hands gripped the wheel tight to keep from trembling. Her eyes were on the road, but all she could see was tendrils of white-hot energy, bodies with burnt-out eyes, Ben's form slowly crumbling--

Her family was facing her. Again.

And the only thing she could do to help was get far, far away.


	2. A Fine Kettle of Raptors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Sparrows plus Luther, Allison, and Five take on this timeline's Vanya, Diego, and Klaus. Ten vs three. They can handle this. (They cannot handle this.)
> 
> Meanwhile, Diego has an aside with New Mombot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was only going to be two parts but the last section is giving me trouble and it was turning into A Lot anyway so I split it into a third part.
> 
> This part is where it gets pretty dang violent so. Be warned.
> 
> Fight scenes are hard but I'm actually pretty happy with how this turned out.
> 
> Time Warp (Soundtrack version):  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=S91wQbYYX3Q

The security guard led the way in silence. Behind him strode the three figures in the pristine white suits, their faces conspicuously covered by white Venetian masks.

"The Sparrows will be engaging by now," commented the small one with the platinum-blonde pixie cut, colombina mask nearly blending with her uniformly pale tone. "How long do you think they'll hold?"

The muscular, crew-cut figure at her side nodded. Pale scars spiderwebbed over his tan skin. "Long enough, assuming acceptable losses." Despite the differences in height, build, and coloration, they walked in the same way: standing tall, hands in their pockets, utterly relaxed.

"Isn't Jake leading it?" The third figure was tall and loose-limbed, going the extra mile in casualness by hooking his wrists over the ends of a black umbrella across his shoulders. The white ears of a gatto mask poked up through a mane of long brown curls. "Shame, we liked him. Well, we can always hope they kill him quickly."

He flapped a hand that didn't have a word tattooed on the palm, and that would not be strange, except that this was Klaus, sauntering along ahead of a Diego with scars in all the wrong places and a white-haired Vanya with a too-free smile, and something about the predatory ease with which they moved made for a very unsettling game of spot-the-difference.

The security guard made no comment, although they made no effort not to be heard. He stopped to swipe his badge at a door and mechanically entered a passcode.

The Klaus in the gatto mask glanced over his shoulder. "We're thinking... Time Warp?"

Diego nodded thoughtfully. "I could do Time Warp."

"Sounds good," Vanya confirmed.

The door opened into an atrium hall filled with more people than should reasonably have been in an office building at that time of night. A few naturally glanced up at the intrusion. The security guard remained in the open doorway, stock-still, the three intruders in white just visible behind him.

Klaus smiled in a distinctly un-Klaus-like way. He loosed one of his arms, activating a music player hooked to his hip.

_~It's astounding~_

Security was beginning to mobilize, but it was a confused, disorganized mobilization. This was not the attack that they were prepared for. They were not sure this was an attack at all, yet. Just trespassers... playing music?

As Riff Raff's sultry voice intoned lyrics, Klaus stepped up behind the frozen guard. He brought the umbrella around the man's neck, grasping one end in each hand. Twisted the handle.

_~I've got to keep control~_

In one smooth, unhurried flourish, he drew a blade from the umbrella and sliced the guard's throat.

Blood spurted. The guard fell. People screamed and ran. Security opened fire.

The sheath half of the umbrella hit the ground and unfurled. Diego drew a pair of small, wicked throwing axes from beneath his white jacket. The Raptors waded in, unbothered by the hail of bullets.

_~I remember doing the time warp!~_

Diego's axes sliced through the air, making improbable turns to take out fleeing workers. Vanya blew a kiss to three guards and their chests exploded. Klaus sliced and stabbed and kicked his way through with glee. Everywhere they moved, people died. Despite the bloody display, their white suits remained spotless.

It was halfway through the Little Nell verse when Klaus suddenly began to feel ill. He stopped lip-syncing, sitting on the conference table he'd been strutting down like a catwalk, and pulled off the gatto mask. His face shone with sweat under the ugly fluorescent lights.

In another room, Vanya peeled off her mask as well and poured a little paper cup of cold water down her throat. She was so thirsty, and the electricity buzzed like a persistent insect, and her skin felt like it was on fire--

A group of guards spun into the doorframe and opened fire. Vanya's irises flashed white.

The door of the room exploded. The water cooler burst. Bodies floated like kites, tendrils of white-hot energy burning the life out of them. Vanya's white wingtips splashed through mingled water and viscera as she stepped out, glowing with fury.

She blinked, and her eyes faded back to hazel. A sudden fatigue set in. She waved her hand, severing the tendrils and sending her victims flying across the atrium. If they weren't dead before, they were when they struck the far walls with sickening wet crunches. Vanya leaned on the wall and wiped sweat from her face.

"Vanya!" Klaus hurried up to her, concern in his soulful green eyes. "Are you okay?"

"I felt... sick," she said. That didn't do the feeling justice, but it worked well enough. "I think it's gone now. You?" She brushed a sweat-soaked curl away from his forehead.

"I felt the same thing."

"Diego?"

Their answer came as a window shattered overhead. Diego dropped in a shower of glass from one of the upper windows of the atrium, slamming to the lower floor on top of two unfortunates. He ripped off his mask, pulled an axe out of the chest of one of the unfortunates, and chopped it down. Blood sprayed across his immaculate suit. He chopped again. Again. _Again_.

"Diego, they're dead!"

Diego swung to his feet, pointing the bloody axehead, far too close to Klaus's neck for comfort. "Do you want to join them?!" He breathed hard, teeth bared, eyes wild.

Without warning the rage subsided. Diego's expression melted into intense confusion as he slowly lowered the axe. "I... I don't know why I said that." He looked down at the brutalized body, at the blood staining his suit, then back at Klaus and Vanya. "What just happened?"

"Bioweapon?" Vanya suggested.

"Let's not wait around to find out," Klaus said. He retrieved his umbrella sheath and slid the blade back into place with a click. "Are we clear?"

Vanya closed her eyes. The lights buzzed overhead. Water gurgled softly from the broken cooler. Someone breathed, harsh and quick. She pointed.

Diego threw an axe. The breathing stopped with a gurgle.

"...We're clear," Vanya confirmed with a smile.

* * *

Luther, Allison, and Five didn't have to wait long. Christopher the cube zipped into view and deposited the rest of the Sparrows in a flash of light. They looked only the slightest bit ruffled from their own mission. Sparrow Number Five, stocky fluffy-haired Riley with more scars than skin, was bleeding slightly from the lip, but no one seemed particularly alarmed by that.

Ben lead his team forward, barely looking at the Umbrellas as he passed, brisk and all business. "We were briefed. You can leave."

"Nope!" Five chirped as the three of them joined the procession.

"This isn't a discussion."

"You've got that right," Allison said.

Ben glanced back at them, a scowl marring his businesslike expression. He took in their determined looks. "Fine. Whatever. Just don't get in the way." As he turned back he addressed his own team. "Surprise is on our side. Overwhelm, incapacitate, contain. Make sure to take out Vanya. I'll go for a quick knock-out, but I want everyone ready in case I miss one."

Even as he said it, it was clear he didn't think 'in case' would be necessary. The enemy was a known quantity now. Vanya was the only real threat in there.

The glass front door of the building was locked. Five opened it without being asked. Inside was silent -- eerily so. Electricity hummed in the lights overhead. A security door to the left of the reception desk stood ajar.

Five could smell blood in the air. He blinked to the desk. Behind it he found the receptionist: a young man, eyes wide with surprise, blood slowly pooling from a split in his skull.

Five held out his arm to hold Carla back from investigating, but it was just a little too late. She covered her mouth to hold in a horrified gasp. Turning quickly, she shook her head to Ben.

Ben signaled for them to follow and headed for the open security door.

This time, Carla couldn't keep in her gasp.

The door was held ajar by a security guard's foot, lying where he had fallen with his slit throat. Beyond was a scene of carnage. Smoking bulletholes and dripping arterial spray covered the walls. Bodies were strewn everywhere, on the ground, pinned to walls, hanging on light fixtures or out of atrium windows. Blood dripped from deep gashes and from burst ribcages. A few lay bloodless and pale, their eye sockets burnt-out black hollows.

Allison remembered an FBI office in 1963 and blanched. Her fingers found the scar on her neck.

Five breathed in the scent of blood and gunpowder and felt his heartbeat quicken, and he couldn't tell if it was from fear or excitement or both. He couldn't tell which one he wanted it to be, either.

At the far end of the hall, three figures in white suits stopped and half-turned. Familiar faces smiled in unfamiliar ways.

"Well. Guess the cat's out of the bag," said the blood-splattered Diego with all the wrong scars.

The Klaus with the malicious smile stepped forward. "Ten of you this time. Interesting. Doesn't seem exactly--"

Ben's tentacles lashed out. They streaked across the room in a writhing mass -- and smashed into the walls on either side of the Raptors. Not a hair on their heads fluttered.

Diego leaned toward Vanya. "Dibs."

Sparrow Number Four, Lucia, looked anxiously at her teammates. "Was that Vanya?"

Luther shook his head, his eyes wide. "I think it was Diego."

The three looked surprised. Diego's eyes narrowed. "How do you know our names?" Klaus nudged him, much to his offense.

"We were speaking," Klaus said. "Didn't they teach you manners at that fancy Academy?"

A lot of things happened in very rapid succession before he finished his sentence.

Lucia, Carla, and Christopher all made their moves. Carla stepped forward, the Songbird ready to sing. Christopher pulsed with light. Lucia flew up and blasted a beam of jet-black energy from her mouth.

Vanya and Diego both swept their hands through the air like they were swatting aside bothersome flies.

The beam should've gone straight for Diego. Instead it curved, arced backwards, and slammed into Christopher.

Carla's vocalization pulsed back into her throat. For a moment, she stood, stunned, her neck and chest glowing.

Christopher clattered to the linoleum, a crack in his surface seeping light green smoke.

Carla collapsed, blood dripping from her lips. Riley leapt to her side.

Klaus was no longer smiling. "Well," he said, spreading his hands. "If you're all so eager to die..." He rose into the air, hands and eyes glowing electric blue. The lights flickered. The temperature dropped. All around him blue figures took shape.

All at once, Luther knew what Klaus -- his Klaus, their brother, not this assassin with his face -- had been talking about earlier with the Jacob's Ladder ghosts. Many of the ghosts were the freshly-fallen, moving mindlessly among their own bodies. Many more of the ghosts were... something else. Something awful and medical and precise, bandaged and stitched and bloated and screaming, and he just had time to wonder what the _hell_ was this place, before the army of ghosts descended upon them.

* * *

Vanya stared at the drink in her hands.

Getting drunk wasn't often her solution to things. Right now, though, she wasn't sure there _was_ a solution.

Her family was breaking itself once again upon the rocks that were her goddamn, stupid, out-of-control powers, and she couldn't do anything about it. She never could.

But she still hesitated to drink, because what if, what if they did need her, what if the one time they needed her she was drunk and useless--

"Vanya."

Klaus's bony tattooed hands were on hers, rough-skinned but gentle. She looked up into his eyes.

"They're gonna be fine," he said.

Diego on the stool beside her shrugged absently. "I don't know about that, man."

Klaus made a face at him. "Excuse you, I am trying to be optimistic so our dear sister doesn't work herself into a panic attack."

Vanya shook her head. "I'm okay, Klaus," she said, extracting her hands from his so she could pick up her glass. "You guys are lucky."

"How's that?" Diego said.

"You've never had to worry about accidentally killing everyone."

Diego considered whether he should be insulted, decided against it. Instead, he chuckled. "You know, you're right. I've never been so grateful to have less..." He waved his hand vaguely, gave up on finding the right word and settled on, " _flashy_ powers."

"We all know I'm useless without Ben," Klaus chirped. "So, it's just you, and we've already dealt with you twice, we've got plenty of experience!" He ruffled her hair.

 _People died both times_ , Vanya thought, but didn't say.

"You think they're evil versions of us? Gotta be, right?" Klaus chattered, mostly to keep the silence from getting too heavy. "What do you think they look like? We've already got beards and I've got the eyeliner market cornered, and it'd be hard to get much sexier. Although, Vanya, you would look pretty fetching with an evil goatee."

Vanya smiled, rubbed her chin thoughtfully. "You think?"

High heels tapped a beat on the hardwood floor. Diego looked up. His face fell as a slender brunette stopped in the archway, beaming at them with a pleasant red-lipped smile.

"Oh, hello! I didn't expect any of you to be at home. Can I get you something to eat?"

"Do we look like we want to eat?" Diego snapped with more force than necessary. "We're fine."

"Of course," she said, unperturbed. "Just let me know if you change your mind." Her heels tapped towards the stairs.

Diego squeezed his eyes shut. Then he cursed, leaving his drink on the bar as he rushed after her.

He caught up with her upstairs. "Hey, uhm--"

She turned, her smile disarming him. The smile was the same, even if her face wasn't, and it was making something misfire in his brain.

"Hello, Diego. Did you need something?"

"I- I w--" he struggled. Grace would have reminded him to picture the word in his head. This woman, she just smiled and smiled and waited, infinitely patient. "I w- w- wanted to apologize. I shouldn't-- shouldn't have yelled."

"Oh, that's fine, dear. I know you kids can get so wound up. Your work is so stressful!"

He chuckled mirthlessly. "That's one w-way to put it." It was easier to speak if he wasn't looking at her, at the right expression on the wrong face. She had a slight drawl. Mom never had an accent, but the other Grace did, the one who left Reggie high and dry. Good for her. "Your name is Audra, right?"

"Yes, Audra. But the children call me--" He desperately wanted to interrupt, to keep her from finishing that sentence, but nothing came out when he opened his mouth. "Mom."

"I- I- I- I already have a m... mom."

 _Had_. His eyes stung.

He felt a cool touch on his cheek and almost flinched. "Of course, dear. A mother is very special, and no one can ever replace her. Just 'Audra' is fine."

He took her hand in his. Her hands were a little larger than Grace's, they didn't fit in his the same way, but the coolness of her skin was the same. He rubbed his thumb on her too-smooth palm, feeling the hard machinery and wires just beneath. If he squinted he could just see the seam in her wrist.

"I've been nothing but m-- mean to you. That's not fair. It's not your fault."

"I forgive you."

  
At the bar, Vanya took a drink and set her glass down, looking towards the stairs where Diego and Audra had disappeared.

"Hey, do you want to see something?"

Klaus grinned over Diego's glass. "I will _always_ say yes to that question, and I've only regretted it a few times."

They found Diego standing, arms folded, staring at nothing on the floor while Audra walked away. He only looked up when Vanya spoke, quickly and discretely wiping his eyes. They pretended not to see.

"Audra," Vanya said.

Audra turned. "Yes, dear?"

"Can we see the albums you and Sissy showed me?"

"Of course! Right this way!"

Diego and Klaus exchanged looks of intrigued confusion, and followed.

* * *

Luther had made a very important discovery, when the wailing horde surrounded Riley and lifted him out of danger, when their grasping hands yanked Sparrow Seven, Sebastian, out of the air: The ghosts were solid. Which meant they could be grabbed. Which meant he could do what he did best: Throw people. The ghosts sometimes bowled into each other, sometimes phased through, with no apparent consistency, but either way it kept a good number of them occupied.

Allison stood over fallen Carla. Rumors, it turned out, also worked on ghosts. Blowing up their heads didn't slow them down -- but turning them against each other did. She tried sending a few after Klaus, but he just frowned and held up a hand and they vaporized.

While Klaus and Vanya floated above the battlefield, the bloodstained Diego set upon Ben. Tentacles swarmed around him, just holding him back, barely landing a blow. Twin axes fended off the few that got close enough to strike. Every movement brought him a step closer, and Ben was starting to sweat.

  
Five left the ghost-fighting to others. His eyes were on the real threats: Vanya and -- shockingly -- Klaus. Getting close wasn't an option, not with the power visibly radiating from both of them. He phased to the back of the room, behind them, snatched a gun from one of the fallen guards and turned it on the floating forms.

And froze.

His finger was on the trigger, the muzzle was aimed at Not-Klaus's back, but he couldn't move the few muscles he needed. A voice in his head screamed for him to take the shot, take it _now_ , before his window closed, it's just another kill, _take the goddamn shot, Number Five_ \--

Another voice was just screaming. Blood and fire and gunpowder filled his nose, and their heads were bursting with flowers of blood, his family was lying dead again, _again_ , brain matter mixing with dust and hay, bullets burning in his stomach, and he fixed this, he FIXED IT but it's happening AGAIN and he can't, he _can't_ , he CAN'T--

He would never admit how much of a relief it was when the ghosts tore the gun away. He blinked away from their clutching hands and to a corner where he could regain his equilibrium.

  
Across the room, Ben was fighting like he'd never had to fight before. Hand-to-hand was good enough for minor criminals and sibling squabbles. The monster took care of everyone else, as gently or as violently as he directed.

But both, right now, were failing him. Against fucking _knifeboy_.

The wicked edge of an axe (fucking AXES, seriously, as if knives just weren't quite edgy enough) sailed into his vision. Ben jerked aside, just dodging the uncanny arc. He used the opening to lash out -- missed. He wasn't supposed to _miss_. How was it possible that fucking _Diego_ \--

Diego whirled. The axe, still in flight on an impossible curve, sailed over his dipping shoulder and slammed into Ben's. He barely had time to register the strike before Diego completed a spin-kick and jammed the axehead even deeper. He felt the muscle tissue separate, felt his collarbone snap. Searing pain overrode his senses.

Ben fell.

  
Five could breathe again. He looked up to assess the battlefield, caught sight of Ben on the ground. Not-Diego put a foot on his chest, waved a hand to send Lucia's beam arcing into Sebastian, then bent and ripped the axe out of Ben's shoulder. He raised it for a killing blow. Five phased.

Shooting Klaus or Vanya, he couldn't do. But sucker-punching Diego? That, he _absolutely_ could.

He tackled Diego with his whole (meager) weight, carrying him off Ben and to the ground. Diego rolled back to his feet in an instant, spinning on his new opponent. He cocked his head in surprise. Five grinned and phased behind him -- it was his turn to be surprised, when Diego blocked what should been a knockout blow.

Well. This was going to be interesting.

  
Sparrow Number Six, tall black-haired Faith, exploded into a flock of large black crows. The screeching, cawing cloud swarmed toward Klaus's floating cross-legged form.

Klaus smiled. He turned his hands palm-forward. The remaining glass walls of the upper offices shattered inward. The shards flew together, coalesced into a cyclone that surrounded and tore into the flock. Birds fell in a rain of glass and feathers and blood, most of them melding back into human form just as she hit the ground. Ragged cuts covered her skin, and she coughed and groaned, her limbs weak. Too much of her body was lying dead on the floor.

The cloud of glass hovered overhead, edges glittering red, and then sailed straight towards her. Faith squeezed her eyes shut and just tried to shield her face from the piercing, cutting rain.

The pain never came. She opened her eyes to find Luther crouched over her, his teeth gritted. Glass glittered in his shoulders, his arms, his back.

"You okay?"

What an absurd question for _him_ to be asking _her_. She almost laughed.

  
Diego was holding his own, and that was not okay. Five had fought plenty of people who could hold their own, but this was... this reminded him too much of Lila, of himself. This was someone who not only knew what he could do but had faced it before. He didn't like the implications of that, not one bit.

But he was keeping Diego's full attention, in turn, and that kept him from either killing Ben or altering Lucia's lasers.

Lucia turned her beams on Vanya, hammering again and again into a shield of brilliant blue-white energy. The barrage kept her from fighting back, but Lucia couldn't keep this going forever.

Sebastian's powerful arms ripped at the ghosts around Riley. More kept coming, kept grasping at him, kept tearing at his blistering skin, and every time he threw one off him or Riley two more would latch on with their icy hands. Riley had given up struggling and was just watching Lucia and Vanya intensely.

Riley saw an opening. He gritted his teeth and narrowed his eyes in focus. "Hit me!"

Sebastian swung a punch into his brother's jaw.

Vanya's head snapped to one side at the same time Riley's did, blood spraying from her mouth. Her shield faltered. Lucia's next blast sent her crashing to the ground like a meteorite.

  
"Vanya!" Diego cried. He shoved Five aside and launched an axe. The blade spun through the air, made a 90-degree turn into Lucia's back. She screamed and dropped out of the air.

Five considered, for a moment, rewinding to help her, to snatch the axe from its path and prevent what could be major spinal damage. She was one of his siblings now, technically, but not 'risk time travel' level family. Not yet.

Diego turned back and threw an axe directly at him. A straight shot? Amateur hour. Vanya's fall must have really shaken--

He jumped in the middle of that train of thought. The last thing he saw was Diego's upraised palm. Then reality tilted violently. The careful calculations that were second nature to him unraveled. Instead of slipping through a ripple, he crashed brain-first into the plate glass of spacetime and felt it shatter, shards tearing through his soft tissues and lodging white-hot in his skull. Nothingness surrounded him, wrenched at his eyeballs, boiled in his skin, filled his lungs, made them scream for air, for water, for _anything_ \--

Then suddenly he was back, appearing fifteen feet off the parking lot outside and landing on the hood of a car, setting off the alarm. He barely noticed for the ringing in his ears and the churning in his stomach and the blessed sweet pain of cold air filling his lungs in greedy gasps. He managed to roll over and heave the contents of his stomach over the side of the car.

When he couldn't heave any more, he slumped to the cold metal and let unconsciousness take him.

  
Allison's gaze swept the hall. They were losing. Badly. Even with Vanya down, Diego and Klaus and the army of ghosts were too much. Too many of them were out of commission entirely.

Luther was struggling, Five nowhere to be found, Ben down ( _oh, god, no, not again_ ). She took the reins. "We need to retreat! Everyone out!"

She felt rather than saw Klaus's glowing eyes focus on her. "There's nowhere to go," he said, not yelling, but his voice somehow carrying through the room anyway. "You're all going to..." As she met him with a defiant glare, he faltered. "...die." He tipped his head like a confused puppy. "Allison?"

She couldn't let this opening go to waste. " _I heard a rumor_ \--"

His eyes went wide and his hands shot forward. A burst of force knocked her back, through the door and into the reception hall.

Coughing, she forced herself to sit up. Well-honed instincts did a quick evaluation. Her shoulder felt dislocated where she had landed on it, her chest hurt, but otherwise she was intact.

And there was a sprinkler system over the reception desk, and a lighter in her pocket.

She'd done this in a movie, once.

  
The sprinklers came on with a hiss, drenching everyone in cold water. The shock made Klaus drop out of the air, his ghost army vanishing.

The Hargreeves gathered their wounded and ran.

Diego started after them, drawing another axe, but Klaus stopped him. "We have more important things to worry about," he said.

With Vanya in Diego's arms, the three headed out the other way.


	3. Aftermath

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Canon-typical references to child abuse (because Sir Reginald), past drug use (because Klaus), self-harm, and a smidge of pseudo-incest (because Luther) in this chapter.

On the third floor, in a part of the Academy that used to be a suite of offices, was a warmly-lit room filled with bookshelves. Diego and Klaus sat on the floor, leatherbound photo albums lying open all around them. Photo after photo of laughing, happy children stared up from the plastic-lined pages. Audra sat daintily in the chair beside them, hands folded in her lap, watching them with her unchanging pleasant smile. Vanya stood at the shelves, flipping purposely through first one book, then another.

"They're all so _tiny_!" Klaus kept gasping.

"Aw, they're flying together, that's adorable."

"Is that Faith or is that just a random baby bird?"

"That's the same dog! They had a dog?!"

"Look, look, look, it's Chris!" Klaus pointed to a photo of a little tow-headed boy proudly presenting a tooth and a correspondingly gapped smile.

"How do you know?" Diego asked.

"He looks the same."

Vanya paused her search to join Diego in staring at him. Diego ventured, "...He's a cube, Klaus."

Klaus rolled his eyes. "Really, Diego? I hadn't noticed. Yes, _physically_ , he's a cube. I can see him how he used to be."

"Wait, so, he's dead?"

"No, no, not... not exactly. He's... somewhere between. Dead enough that I can see him, but alive enough that he can still bop around as a cube and I can't channel him or anything."

"...So why is he a cube?"

"You know, I haven't asked."

"Here!" Vanya cried in triumph, bringing over another album. "Here's my favorite, you have to see this."

Diego burst out laughing. Klaus squealed and covered his mouth. " _Ohmigod Ben had a bunny!_ " Klaus managed to squeak.

"That thing is bigger than he is," Diego exclaimed.

"That's what she said," Klaus said automatically.

"Okay but that is _actually_ what I said," Vanya laughed.

" _Please_ tell me nothing bad happened to the bunny, just-- just lie to me, please," Klaus begged Audra.

"Andre lived to a ripe old bunny age of ten years, three months, and eleven days," Audra confirmed. "Ben was devastated when we had to put him down. He's always been such a sensitive boy."

Klaus nodded, his eyes shining with tears. "He was."

"I can't imagine him with a rabbit," Diego said. "Except for... training."

They all went quiet. Ben had never talked much about his training. Dad would take him away, and he'd come back silent and bloody, and at night he would wake up screaming more often than any of them.

He was always such a sensitive boy.

Audra, unaware of their thoughts, spoke up. "Mister Cooper was very involved in Ben's training." She slid them another album, pointing out a photograph of a prepubescent Carla in a leotard, balanced in the air on one of Ben's tentacles. Harlan stood in the background. Everyone was smiling, at ease, as if Ben wasn't struggling for control, as if one slip of his concentration wouldn't tear her to pieces.

Audra continued, "Mister Hargreeves and Mister Cooper often disagreed on methods, but Mister Hargreeves recognized the value of Mister Cooper's judgment and abilities. Ben made great strides with Mister Cooper's help." Was there pride in her smile, in her voice?

Vanya smiled softly -- proud, too, of the boy she'd helped raise all too briefly. She could imagine Harlan training Ben, freezing the monster anytime it started to get out of control, giving Ben the space he needed to breathe. No wonder Ben was so protective in return. "Harlan kept the monster at bay."

Diego turned another page. Six months ago, he would've sublimated all the emotions he was feeling into anger. He'd have... he wasn't sure, but probably yelled at someone (probably Vanya) and thrown something (probably an album) and stormed out of the room, because he didn't know how else to handle the many feelings boiling over in his heart.

Now... now he just let himself feel hurt, and jealous, and loving, as he looked at page after page of children being... children. Smiling, laughing, playing. Wearing clothes that weren't uniforms or tracksuits or pajamas. Falling off horses and sword-fighting with boat oars and singing on stage and hugging a new puppy and having birthday parties. A family, not an experiment.

Diego was still a little too proud to openly cry, not again. He blinked the tears back.

It wasn't that the Umbrella Academy didn't have any experiences together. They took field trips, explored, experienced, learned. But never with such carefree smiles. Everything they did was deadly serious, often seriously deadly, in the name of training.

He knew how to race a horse bareback, how to control one when it was spooked by gunfire, how to roll to minimize damage from flailing hooves. He knew where to stab to kill one quickly and efficiently. He knew how to make every lesson into a competition. He knew how to win.

He didn't know how to just ride a horse. He didn't know how to sit in a saddle and let the wind blow through his hair and just let it carry him from one end of a path to another. He didn't know the horses' names.

He knew so many things, but he never knew how to just... be.

Reginald reminded them so, so often that the weight of the world was on their shoulders, and then had the gall to be surprised when one by one it crushed them.

"Why couldn't we have had this?" he said, softly.

Klaus leaned his head on Diego's shoulder. "Because god doesn't like us. I should know, I've met her. Little brown girl on a bike. Very unassuming."

Diego laughed. He put his arm around Klaus. Vanya leaned in from Klaus's other side and he rubbed her shoulder.

"Yeah, that would make sense," Vanya said with a dry laugh. "God hating us, I mean."

"Yeah, well, screw her, anyway," said Diego.

"Language," Audra said.

"Sorry."

The window rattled. Audra looked up. "Oh, Faith!" She slid the window open. A flock of black birds swarmed in. Diego, Vanya, and Klaus scrambled to their feet, still unused to the sudden storms of flapping and feathers. Audra, unperturbed, continued, "Honey, please use the front--"

The birds coalesced into a bloody, cut-up Faith. "No time, Mom! We need medical!"

Audra snapped to attention. "Who?"

"Everyone!"

* * *

The next twenty minutes passed in a blur of shouting and shock.

Audra deputized Vanya, Diego, and Klaus to help her scramble medical kits and stretchers to the foyer. Sissy and Harlan, awoken by the commotion, joined them. Reginald was already there, he and Audra setting immediately to examine, diagnose, and prioritize the injuries. Their voices overlapped.

"Sparrow Three, four inch crack in surface, slow bleed!"

"Sparrow Seven, extensive partial-thickness burns!"

"Umbrella One, lacerations and blood loss!"

"Umbrella Three, shoulder dislocation!"

"Sparrow Two, internal abrasions to chest and throat!"

"Sparrow One, tissue and bone damage, blood loss, possible nerve damage!"

Ben's bloody hand clutched at Reginald's sleeve. "Under... underestimated them-- We got the positive ID, thought I knew what-- what I was-- this is my fault--"

"Stop talking," ordered Sir Reginald. "There will be a debrief _after_ you have recovered." His tone was not exactly soft, but it still belied the harshness of his words.

"Sparrow Four, spinal injury, no response in legs," Audra called.

Reginald patted Ben's hand once and then removed it. Blood stained his shirtsleeve. "Sparrows Two, Three and Four to Lab A. Harlan, with me. The rest of you, to the infirmary!"

* * *

The labs were more than adequate when one or two of them was injured or sick, but any more than that and they went to the infirmary. So it was at the Umbrella Academy, so it probably still was at the Sparrow Academy. The infirmary itself was certainly not too different. The wall, Luther thought, had been built a little further back to accommodate more white-linened beds. Dad had-- _Sir Reginald_ had foreseen the possibility of having more than seven people in here at some point.

That thought was kind of nice. It appealed to the not-so-tiny, annoyingly persistent part of Luther that still wanted to believe in their father -- even if this timeline's Reginald hadn't even met the most basic requirements for them to consider him 'dad'.

The thought was certainly nicer than reality, anyway, where he was straddling a chair backwards, grotesque torso and arms exposed for all to see, while Diego pulled chunks of glass out of his back.

At another bedside, Sissy prodded Allison's shoulder gently. "Still feel that?"

"No," Allison said. "It's totally numb."

"Good. Okay, Vanya, just start pullin', slow and steady-like. Don't force it. Long as you stay relaxed that shoulder'll slide right back into place without doin' any more damage." Sissy brushed her hand over Vanya's back as she stood up. "I'm gonna bring you some ice."

Ben lay in a nearby bed, pale and shaking from blood loss. Audra cut away his uniform while Klaus slid an IV needle deftly into his other arm. Klaus hooked up the saline drip a little more clumsily -- Luther was trying not to think of how much more experience Klaus had with needles than with IV bags. That line of thinking inevitably made him feel sick and guilty.

Picking up a tiny bottle from the medical kit, Klaus shook it, grinning. "You're in luck, Benny-boy, you're getting the good stuff. You're gonna be a lot more tolerable in five minutes, and five minutes after that you'll be asleep!"

"Fuck off," Ben groaned. There was no bite to it. Concern flitted across Klaus's features, but he schooled them back into flippant cheeriness.

"Audra, while you're there, any chance you can do anything about the gigantic stick lodged in his ass?"

Audra didn't look up from cleaning the deep gash. "I assume you mean that euphemistically, dear?"

"Don't talk to my mom like that," Ben barely managed to whisper.

In another bed, Riley snipped Sebastian's charred uniform away from his seared and torn skin. "You better leave that where it is, Rye," Sebastian said, "I see any blisters later and I _will_ break into your place and put everything on the top shelves."

"Hey, you want a badass scar, just say so. No need for threats."

Sissy returned with cloth ice bags, distributing one to Sebastian. "Don't you put that on that burn, that's for your neck. I had a cousin set his arm on fire and stuck it in ice, lost half his skin to frostbite."

"Thanks, gran," Sebastian said.

Sissy returned to Vanya's side and felt Allison's shoulder to see how much it had moved. Vanya watched her.

It didn't matter that Sissy was old enough now that Vanya's new siblings called her 'gran', or that she'd been woken up less than an hour ago and spent the entire time in her nightdress nursing wounds. Vanya still looked at her like the full moon on a cloudless night, soft and radiant and glittering with stardust.

It was far from the weirdest relationship in this family. Hell, it wasn't even the weirdest one in the room.

Klaus finished with Ben and headed over to Luther. "Alright, big guy, your turn. Let's see them veins."

While he tied the tourniquet, Luther sighed. "I, uh -- I saw what you meant. About the ghosts."

Klaus made a face. "Ick. Sorry you had to see that. Totally Jacob's Ladder, though, right?"

"I haven't seen it."

"Really?!" Diego yanked a piece of glass with a little more force than necessary.

"Well, damn," is all Klaus said, tapping Luther's inner elbow.

Diego looked offended. "Excuse me, how come I'm an uncultured heathen but he just gets a 'damn'?"

"Because you have a life and actually watch movies, I fully believe Luther's never seen anything Allison wasn't in."

"Hey!" Luther might have blushed if it wasn't for the blood loss. "I've... seen other movies."

Klaus removed the tourniquet, and Luther realized the IV was in place. He hadn't even felt the needle. Klaus was way, _way_ too good at that.

"Oh yeah?" Diego challenged. "Name one."

Luther stammered for a moment. "Well if you put me on the spot then of course my mind's going to go blank!"

Klaus tuned out their bickering while he prepped another dose of morphine. He reached for the injection port on the IV bag. Luther's hand caught his wrist.

"I don't need that."

Klaus looked at him. "Is this a 'tough guy' thing or a 'not turning into Klaus' thing? Because this isn't an after-school special, one hit isn't gonna hook you."

Diego picked up a bottle of disinfectant. As Luther repeated, "I don't need it--" Diego poured the disinfectant over his back. Luther hissed. "Ow!" he directed over his shoulder.

Diego did a very poor job of looking innocent.

"I. Don't. Need it."

Klaus shrugged. "Tough-guy thing it is. Carry on." He waggled the syringe. "Diego, you want in on this?"

Diego suppressed a shudder. "Don't joke about that, I need to do stitches."

"Okay, okay, I can tell where I'm not wanted. Anyone else want any before I put it away?"

"I think that's all the morphine we need, dear," Audra answered. She had progressed to sewing up Ben's shoulder with a great many tiny precise stitches. Ben's eyes were closed, his head almost in her lap, sweat-soaked black hair fanned over her skirt.

Riley looked up from the bandage he was applying to Sebastian's side. As he finished what he was doing and Klaus returned to the table with the medical kits, Riley patted the bandage and stood up. He wandered over to Klaus with forced casualness.

"Hey, uh, Klaus?" he undertoned. "You think I could get that?"

Klaus looked surprised, then a little suspicious, then smiled brightly. "Of course Rye-rye!" he said, a little too loud. Riley shushed him frantically, which did absolutely nothing. "Where does it hurt?"

All conscious eyes were now on them. Even Faith, who had been lying quietly with a towel over her face to keep out the bright lights, looked up.

"Uh--"

"Are you hurt, Riley?" Sissy asked.

"...Yes."

"Nope!" Ben said, too sharply, like a drunk trying very hard not to sound drunk. The morphine had definitely kicked in.

"Sebastian punched me!"

"And you transferred it immediately," Sebastian said. "You're not hurt."

"You don't know that," Riley retorted. He turned back to Klaus, lowering his voice again. "Look, I just want a quick high, okay? You know how it is. Come on." He pulled up a sleeve and bared his arm.

Something about the way he said it rang hollow. Klaus narrowed his eyes in suspicious confusion. If he wasn't hurt, but he was lying about wanting to get high, then why--?

Sebastian appeared in Klaus's periphery and plucked the syringe out of his hand. He emptied the contents into the stainless steel sink and turned on the water.

"Hey!" Riley shouted.

"You're not hurt, and you're staying that way," Sebastian said.

Ah. That made sense.

Riley puffed his chest and pointed and tried to stare down Sebastian, which was rather funny given Riley was somewhat less than average height, and Sebastian rivaled Luther pre-monkeyjuice. Sebastian crossed his arms (carefully, over his bandage) and glared back.

"You can't tell me what to do, Seven, I outrank you!"

"That's bullshit and you know it!"

Faith groaned and covered her face again.

"If it's bullshit then why do we follow One?"

"Because he's smarter than you! He doesn't try to get himself killed!"

"That was ONE TIME!"

"Boys!" Sissy snapped. They fell silent. "If you're gonna yell, do it outside. You're disturbin' the patients."

Both looked suitably chastened, muttered apologies, and shuffled towards the door, still glaring at each other. Their voices faded down the hall as they picked up right where they'd left off.

"--expect me to just stand by--"

"--goddamn martyr complex--"

"One time too many," Ben slurred, letting his head fall against Audra's side. She smoothed his hair with one hand as she pulled the thread taut with the other.

"Sorry about that," Sissy said softly. "Last time one of these fights went this bad, Riley broke into the morphine and tried to take everybody's hurt. He was in a coma for nearly a month. Boy's got his heart in the right place, but he doesn't always know his limits. Let's see that shoulder, honey."

While Sissy put Allison's arm in a sling, Vanya looked around the room. The words ' _tried to take everybody's hurt_ ' kept replaying in her head. Ben's shoulder ripped open, Luther's back a mosaic of glass, Faith concussed and covered in scratches, Sebastian burned. Lucia, Carla, and Christopher in even worse shape somewhere else. Five still hadn't stirred, and she didn't want to look at the blood streaking over his face because she knew it'd tip her over into a panic attack even though Audra had diagnosed his condition as minor.

"I can't believe I did all this," she said.

Luther looked at Allison. Allison took a deep breath. "You didn't."

"I-- I know, I meant the other me--"

It was Faith who interrupted. "No, really, you didn't." She removed the towel from her face and managed to sit up a little against the headboard. "No offense. You're still crazy powerful. You -- I mean she took out Carla and kept Luci's hands full. But we were ready for you. It was these two who came outta nowhere and wrecked our shit."

Diego, Klaus, and Vanya all wore matching expressions of complete shock, mirrored enough to wonder if maybe they weren't a little blood related after all.

"You... wanna run that by me again?" Klaus said.

"Yeah, you're gonna have to expand on that," Diego agreed.

Faith shrugged. "Well, I mean, take you," she gestured to Diego. "You can bend stuff, right, your knife-throwing thing? Turns out you can bend other shit, too. Lucia's lasers, Ben's tentacles. We couldn't land a hit on you. And, uh, throwing axes," she pointed to Ben. "Pretty nasty."

" _I_ did that?"

"Yeah. Lucia, too."

"I thought you said I hurt Lucia?" Vanya said.

"No, no, you kept her busy. Diego took her out."

"Holy shit." Despite himself, Diego was impressed. He'd done great things with his trajectory powers before, but turning someone else's power wasn't something he'd ever even considered. None of his siblings really had anything with enough range to turn. Lucia and her laser beam, though-- and then he recalled _Sparrow Four, spinal injury_ and realized marveling over his newfound potential was pretty inappropriate.

Vanya indicated Luther's stitched-up back. "Was that Diego, too?"

"I think that was Klaus, actually. I went murdery on him, he shattered a bunch of windows and sent it all after me. I'd be hamburger right now if it wasn't for Luther."

"I sent glass after you?" Klaus repeated, confused. "...With... ghosts?"

"I don't think so. The ghosts were pretty busy."

Allison cut in, "Looks like you're telekinetic, Klaus."

He blinked a few times. "News to me. I pretty much assumed ghosts were the beginning and end of my deal."

Diego had finished with Luther's back. While he mused over this new information, he rose and went to check on Five, to clean some of the blood off his face. Five spent too much time with blood on his face. That shouldn't be as normal as it was. Diego sprayed a gauze pad with cleaning solution and began to wipe the dry brown flakes away.

This wasn't just blood splatter, Diego realized. He frowned, carefully tipped Five's head. Yeah, that had definitely dripped out of his nose... and his ears. That wasn't good. Not necessarily _bad_ bad, but never good. As Diego's gaze followed a trail of dried brown blood down Five's neck, his eyes narrowed. The skin there looked... not bruised, but discolored. He pulled Five's collar aside. Strange, reddish mottling, almost like-- but that didn't make any sense.

Five stirred. Diego brushed his hair back gently. "Audra?"

"Yes, Diego?" Audra was washing her hands.

Five's eyes blinked blearily, squinting against the light.

"Can you come take--"

Five focused on Diego. He jolted and promptly vanished in a flash of blue.

That would be normal, for Five. Annoying, but again, normal. Diego closed his eyes, mouth thinned in frustration, but would have just moved on. Like normal.

The scream from the outside hall was anything but normal.

They found Five in a tight fetal curl on the floor, clutching his stomach, breathing in short rattling gasps. His eyes were wide, sclera stained with bursts of red. Vanya slid to her knees at his side, calling his name, gently taking his head in her hands.

"Seven," he slurred, "Seven, it hurts, why does it hurt so much, it shouldn't--"

"Klaus, morphine!" Audra shouted.

"Shh, shush, it's okay, you're gonna be fine--" Vanya's voice shook badly. She smoothed his hair back and realized her hand was wet with fresh blood. "He's bleeding -- where are you bleeding?"

"Check his ears," Diego said. He hung back with Luther and Allison and Faith -- a crowd was the last thing Five needed. Klaus pushed past them with a fresh syringe in one hand and the morphine bottle in the other, joining the huddle on the floor. Sebastian and Riley appeared at the other end of the hall and looked on.

Five shrieked and flailed when Klaus took one of his arms. "It's okay," Vanya murmured, "it's okay, this will help make it not hurt, just stay here, stay, it's okay--" She kept up her litany while they held him still, while Klaus injected him, while Audra reevaluated his condition.

Diego turned to Luther and Allison. "What the _hell_ happened?"

"I don't know," Luther admitted.

"He was fighting you," Allison said. "The other you. Then we found him unconscious outside."

"Multiple soft tissue hemorrhages," Audra was saying. "Diminished lung capacity. Swollen lymph nodes. Delayed onset of symptoms."

Diego called, "Skin mottling."

Audra pulled Five's shirt to expose part of his side, where more reddish marks had developed alongside a number of bruises. "Skin mottling," she confirmed.

Five heaved, retched a splash of frothy, vivid red bile.

Audra scooped him into her slender arms and stood easily. "Internal imaging. Riley! Get your father!"

* * *

Five looked small and frail inside the plastic tube of a hyperbaric chamber. Reginald bent over the control panel on the side, making adjustments. Finally, he turned to his audience. Vanya, Klaus, and Diego stood waiting -- the other two had accepted Audra's orders to go rest, they were themselves hurt and exhausted, but these three stubbornly remained. Just as well.

"He's stable and should recover well. We'll have to wait until he's conscious to see if there's any lasting neurological damage."

"Decompression?" Diego asked. He leaned on the wall, twirled a pen rapidly between his fingertips.

Reginald regarded him steadily. "The circumstances would not seem to support it," he said, "but the symptoms are consistent with a severe air embolism. As is his response to reoxygenation."

Diego pushed off the wall and paced away, muttering to himself.

"What does that mean?" Vanya asked, looking between Diego and Reginald.

"He has extensive internal damage due to -- apparently -- a sudden change in air pressure," Reginald said.

"Means he has the bends," Diego called, sounding frustrated and tired. "Three hundred feet above sea level and Five somehow gets the fucking _bends_."

"Air embolism," Reginald corrected. He sounded tired, too -- he had to be tired, the adrenaline finally ebbing after the mad rush to save three of his children from life-threatening injuries, only to be brought a fourth emergency at the final stretch. He took out his monocle to polish it. "Audra will move him to the bed after two hours. He will need monitoring throughout the night. I trust you three can coordinate that between yourselves and call for Audra if anything changes."

Fitting the monocle back into place, he said, to no one in particular, "This is far worse than I feared."

He didn't seem to realize he'd said it aloud until Diego grabbed two fistfuls of his lapels. " _What_ was that, old man? What the hell have you been hiding from us this time?"

"Diego," Vanya said, but there was no heart in it.

Reginald looked pointedly down at Diego's hands. Belatedly, Diego took the hint. He released his hold and backed away. Reginald smoothed the front of his blood-stained shirt.

"I suppose there's no avoiding it," he said.

"Just spit it out."

Reginald folded his hands behind him, drawing himself up straight and shedding the fatigue like a layer of ice. He regarded each of them imperiously through his monocle. "I've allowed you to believe a convenient lie," he said. "That I merely 'gave up' on you and your siblings. You believed it, and I saw no reason to expend the energy necessary to disabuse you of the notion."

"...But?" Vanya prompted.

Reginald deflated, ever-so-slightly.

"...I did look for all of you, when you were born. I'm afraid that someone else found you first."

* * *

In another part of the city, in a back room of a warehouse building, another version of Klaus was making a phone call. His white suit still clung to him in odd ways, not quite dry after the encounter with the sprinklers.

"I want to speak to Liam.

"I don't _care_ what time it is, get Liam on the goddamn phone!

"Because _someone_ leaked! The Sparrows weren't at the distraction, they showed up to ours, and they _knew. Our. Names_. _Somebody_ let _something_ slip.

"... _How. Dare. You._ No, _you_ shut up and listen, you little ingrate: Tell Liam I will call him in the morning, and in the meantime, thank whatever god you pray to that our powers don't work through phones, or we would put that tapioca that passes for your brains to better use _decorating a wall_!"

He slammed the phone into the cradle, then yanked it back and left it dangling as he stormed away.

"That sounded like it went well," Vanya commented as he entered the other room, furnished rather like a cheap motel. She was lying down on one of the beds, dressed in light grey sweatpants and an undershirt that clearly belonged to Diego and was falling off her shoulder. Diego, similarly cleaned-up and dressed-down, brought her a glass of water that she accepted gratefully.

Klaus's irritation gave way to a relieved smile. "Hey, you're awake. How do you feel?"

"Oh, you know, just a little ache in my everything," she said. "But I'll make it. Couldn't get ahold of Liam?"

"Ugh, no. Just some stupid little toady who had the nerve to suggest _we_ slipped up." He draped his waistcoat on the back of a chair and unbuttoned his cuffs.

"Well, they're fired," Diego said.

"If they're lucky and we don't get to them first," Klaus said. He stripped his shirt off, adding it to the pile on the chair. Without the long sleeves, a single tattoo became visible on his left shoulderblade: a silhouette of a diving falcon, talons extended towards a much smaller bird. Identical tattoos peeked from under Diego and Vanya's shirts.

Klaus donned a pair of sweatpants and climbed into a bed.

Vanya shared a glance with Diego. "You know..." she ventured, "we saw her, too?"

Klaus sighed, leaning back against the headboard.

"That wasn't you, was it?" Diego asked.

"No. We don't know what's going on. I'm hoping Liam will." He turned to smile at the both of them. "It'll make more sense in the morning."

"If you say so," Vanya teased.

Klaus turned off the lamp, and the three of them lay down to sleep.

A fourth figure rose from Klaus's bedside and crossed the room to a chair. Allison sat down, a troubled look on her young face. On her shoulder, barely visible under a cascade of braids, a falcon tattoo glowed blue-white.

* * *

Others were not sleeping well tonight, either.

Diego, long-haired and anxious, lay on one of the ornate living room couches. A knife gleamed in his hand as he flipped it, over and over again, while he stared off into the middle distance.

He kept replaying a moment, over and over again, with each flip of the knife.

Five's eyes. Opening. Focusing. Recognizing him. Filling with terror.

It had to be his imagination. Or, better yet, the barotrauma causing temporary personality changes.

How the hell had Five gotten _barotrauma_?

...How the hell had _he_ given Five barotrauma?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wish I could tell you I have answers to these mysteries I have presented but I do not, I just have more mysteries, I'm so sorry.
> 
> I'm gonna be honest here and say that the Alts aren't siblings and that I was going to write them sharing a bed and cuddling, but as tame as that is I didn't want to scare anyone off with pseudo-incest vibes. So, no cuddles.
> 
> And, for anyone curious (or if I was too vague), a quick rundown of the Sparrows, vaguely inspired by info from the comics:
> 
> Number 1: Ben, The Horror, with a portal to a monster in his stomach.  
> Number 2: Carla, The Songbird, who can will things to happen by singing.  
> Number 3: Christopher. (Previously called 'Martin' in this series.) Used to be human, now a cube, circumstances unknown. Can store people in some kind of dimensional pocket.  
> Number 4: Lucia. Can fly and breath lasers. Okay, more like 'puke lasers' but that's not as good for PR.  
> Number 5: Riley. Can transfer harm from himself to others, or vice-versa.  
> Number 6: Faith. Can turn into a murder of crows.  
> Number 7: Sebastian. Super-strength and flight.


End file.
